


Coffee And Cowardice

by periwinklepromise



Series: WinterWidow Week 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Barista Natasha Romanov, F/F, Female James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: Bucky isnota useless lesbian. She just gets a little tongue-tied around the really cute barista Natasha.But who wouldn't? She's really cute!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Series: WinterWidow Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607683
Kudos: 22
Collections: WinterWidow Week 2020





	Coffee And Cowardice

**Author's Note:**

> For WinterWidow Week Day One prompt "Nice to meet you."

“Talk to her,” Sam hisses in her ear, and Buck swats him away without a second thought.

“Could she _be_ more out of my league?” Bucky retorts, slumping into the admittedly uncomfortable chair at the campus coffeeshop. The head of campus dining must have thought people wouldn't stay so long with shit chairs. Fucking idiot. She'd stay as long as she damn well pleased.

Which is a helluva lot longer this semester ever since they hired Natasha to work the late mid shift.

“She doesn't have to be in your league, you dumbass. She's your barista. She can't take your order if you won't open your mouth,” Sam reminds her.

Sometimes she regrets sitting down next to Sam in their social psych class last fall. But he'd seemed to be the only person who actually wanted to be there, and there was a group project to consider.

Doesn't mean he's not a pain in her ass sometimes, though. Like right now.

“Any time I try to open my mouth around her, I can't feel my _tongue_ ,” she grumbles with a glare. “Please, just -” she huffs and passes over her gift card.

“You're hopeless,” Sam reminds her with a condescending smile that Bucky definitely deserves.

Bucky watches Natasha take the order from Sam, the little laugh she bites off at something he says, the way she flicks her dark red hair away from her face when she passes their cups down to her coworkers. She's pretty, and she actually knows Russian, Bucky's seen her reading books on her break, and no, that's not creepy or pathetic, Bucky is just a pathetic lesbian who cannot help herself. At least she's not like the hundreds of girls going gaga over Clint's eyes online, right?

Sam comes back with a smirk that puts Bucky on edge right away. “What did you do?” she accuses.

“Nothing,” Sam responds, face a perfect mask of polite innocence as he slides over her drink, spinning it in a peculiar way, to show her the details for her drink.

_**COWARD**_.

That's the name Sam gave to Natasha for her drink. Coward, written in Natasha's bold script.

She glares at Sam, but she knows her face is bright red. A quick glance to Natasha confirms she is watching.

Bucky's hands shake as she scrambles to scoop up her books and pens. Sam is saying something, but she can't focus on the words, she just wants to get the hell outta there, she needs to get the hell outta here.

Sam calls her name.

She keeps walking.

The next afternoon after her seminar on Russian short fiction, she stands outside the coffee shop and rocks on her feet. Her left hand tenses into a fist, an old habit that creeps up when she's stressed. Natasha is in there.

She shouldn't do this. She should forget about her coffee, turn around, and never come back.

But she likes her coffee. Her machine at her apartment is crap and she knows it, and she does not budget seventy dollars a month for coffee just to make crap coffee at home.

So she pushes her shoulders back, swings open the door with a little too much force, and marches up to the register where Natasha is waiting, a pleasant expression already in place.

“Good afternoon,” she says quickly, talking a mile a minute into her wallet. “My name is Bucky, and I would like a small cup of your dark roast coffee, please. No room, please. Thank you.” Bucky looks up to Natasha then, to see if she is laughing at her.

But she is not. She is smiling softly, and Bucky has seen that look from girls before, but not normally ones as amazingly hot as Natasha.

“Nice to meet you.”


End file.
